By Ghazaal Mohammadi
In the ancient citadel that towers over the historic Afghan city of Herat, a group of women sits at a table, paintbrushes in hand and heavy in concentration. Under the expert tutelage of a master painter, they are learning to create miniature paintings in the style of Kamal al-Din Behzad, a prominent artist working in the 15th and 16th centuries who is renowned as a pioneer in the field.
These women, aged between 18 and 32, are continuing a centuries-old tradition of miniature painting in Herat, a centre of Persian arts and culture whose ancient grandeur can still be seen in its exquisite architecture and intricately-tiled mosques.
The city was once home to Behzad, whose lively, animated style influenced miniature painting across the region and who remains a revered figure, his memory surviving in the delicate motifs that adorn the blue tiles covering the central mosque.
Young women in this once-vibrant city have always studied painting. But since the Taliban returned to power and blocked access to almost all educational and professional opportunities for women, they have turned to it in ever larger numbers, seeking in creativity the fulfillment that’s denied to them elsewhere.
So a decision in December by theUnited Nations’ cultural agency UNESCO to place this Herat-linked style of miniature painting on its list of intangible cultural heritage worthy of preservation has been particularly warmly welcomed by women artists, who hope it can bring fresh attention and recognition to their work.
“I feel very positive about it, because it’s become global,” says Narges Azimi, a Herat resident who has been painting miniatures for six years.
She says she feared the style of painting was in danger of being forgotten, adding, “I wanted to revive and globalise it so that everyone would recognise this style.”
Like many Afghan artists, Nawid Mashouf, a miniaturist and former lecturer at Herat University, now lives in exile. Afghanistan under the Taliban has become a hostile place for artists, who are no longer allowed to depict human or animal figures – a key part of traditional miniatures – in their art.
He played a role in preparing dossiers for the registration of Behzad-style miniature art with UNESCO and believes that women are now the ones sustaining it in Herat, making it a form of living resistance to the strictures the Taliban imposes on art, culture and education.
“You are narrators of a history that makes the world realise that in the twenty-first century, there were people with rotten ideas who felt guilt and danger even in the face of the smallest things,” he told Rukhshana Media.
- ‘We need support’ –
A miniature painting can take between a month and a year to create. They are sold at the citadel, but are mostly bought by tourists to the city because they are too expensive for local people. Strict sex segregation rules mean it’s particularly hard for women to find a market for their works. Through fear of the Taliban authorities, the women artists hide their works and only bring them out for foreign tourists.
“We need support – support from people, in-person exhibitions, and recognition of our work,” says Fadia Amini, an 18-year-old student of Behzad-style miniature painting who says she chose it because “it is an art form that needs us – people who can help expand it.”
Some of that support comes from galleries in Herat that work with women artists, among them Naiko Art, whose students include university graduates unable to work due to Taliban restrictions.
Artist Fawzia Ahmadi, 25, has established a miniature class at a local educational centre where she teaches girls aged between nine and 11.
“The eagerness and energy of the girls exceeded my expectations. Their interest amazes me,” she says. “They learn their lessons quickly and want to learn even more.”
She believes art can be a powerful tool carrying the voices of these girls to the world. “Learning art doesn’t distinguish between boys and girls, because art is a powerful voice for all suffering and all beauty,” she says.
Masouf too believes in art’s transformative power.
The Taliban, operating under a strict interpretation of Islam, have banned many artistic practices that were central to Afghan culture. They consider music to be forbidden and have confiscated and destroyed musical instruments. In their first year of rule, they sealed the door to the music department at Kabul University’ faculty of arts and removed statues from the faculty’s courtyard and premises.
Yet Mashouf is convinced that miniature art can survive their restrictions.
“Miniature painting is so vast and spiritual that even if we do not depict faces or birds… it still has the capacity for change and transformation,” he says.
